


Things To Do In Cemeteries

by mrhearse



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Cemetery Walks, Established Relationship, M/M, frerardoween2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27308104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrhearse/pseuds/mrhearse
Summary: They take a walk through the cemetery, and Frank laments his high school years.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Things To Do In Cemeteries

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cellphonecharm_au](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellphonecharm_au/gifts).



> An entirely self indulgent daydream. Bullshit about reclaiming lost youth or whatever.  
> A couple of months ago I had a conversation with H about "weird things Frank would do".
> 
> This idea was what sparked the #frerardoween2020 challenge, which I relentlessly encouraged them to host, so I feel like I owe them this humble contribution. A tiny Halloween treat :)
> 
> H, i hope you don't mind me taking your personal anecdote and writing it into this lol. Happy Halloween!

Out of habit, Gerard always brings a scarf just in case when it starts to get autumny. Growing up on the east coast teaches you that it's going to bite you in the ass if you don't. But as he walks up the slope towards the narrow, open cemetery gate next to Frank, he has to unwind his scarf from around his neck; the harsh autumn wind hasn't really hit yet, even though it's nearing the start of October. The cemetery is painted in warm afternoon sunlight, beautiful and serene where it lies quietly on the top of the hill.

“Your birthday's coming up soon,” Gerard says as they enter the grounds, glancing sideways a little bit and bumping his shoulder gently against Frank's. He likes to plan ahead. “You know what you want to do?” They're going to celebrate it early, because the day itself is reserved strictly for costumed, festive activities, like it is every year. Frank pushes back against his shoulder, firmer, almost making Gerard stumble out of step on the gravel path, just a little. He can be forceful when he wants to.

“Nah, not really. Haven't thought about it yet.”

“We still haven't watched Suspiria. We could do that,” Gerard suggests.

“Mhm.” On a nice day like this, they're not alone in the cemetery. Gerard looks at an old couple standing a few rows away from the path, the man has his arm around the woman's shoulders. In front of them there's a sea of colourful, arranged flowers with white ribbons, several candles, and a thin, white cross in place of a tombstone. The funeral must have taken place earlier that day, or yesterday. Gerard wonders briefly who died, who they were; maybe a friend, or a sibling, or a child, grandchild maybe. There's so many flowers.

Frank elbows him in the side, pulling him out of his thoughts, and they round a corner, leaving the white haired couple to pass out of view.

“How about those cinnamon buns you make sometimes? The gooey ones,” Frank says. He's looking up at the trees, where a few red and yellow leaves are breaking up the sea of green. When his eyes finally land on Gerard's face, he's wordlessly asking “you good?”, raising his eyebrows a little.

Gerard smiles. Frank's spider-senses when it comes to Gerard's moods can be really freaky sometimes, but mostly it's just nice. “Yeah, you want me to make some?”

Frank's mouth quirks up on one side. “Maybe.”

They get closer to a tall tombstone, Gerard knows it's Frank's favourite, and Frank slows his step a little, looking up at it. It looks pretty old, it's an almost life size angel carved out of a big, rough rock, with stone wings and a bowed head, looking peaceful and a little sad. The somberness of it is more in the shape of the wings and neck, Gerard thinks, because its face is worn and undefined, its features smoothed out by time. Gerard thinks it looks like it's carrying the stone on it's shoulders, like it's heavy. The carved name by the angel's feet is worn and faded into obscurity. Gerard gets why Frank likes it so much, even though he thinks it's kind of creepy. It looks almost fragile, despite being made of stone, and strangely lifelike, even without a face.

“Let me get back to you on the birthday plans,” Frank says softly, still looking up at the sad angel's face.

Gerard hums. He looks over the nearest row of graves as they pass by Frank's angel; the stones are older in this section, tucked away in a corner behind several meticulously sculpted green bushes. Some of them are clearly old, Gerard can tell not just from the dates on them, but from the faded engravings, the pale moss that grows in patches, and sometimes from the little plastic signs that are stuck in the earth next to a stone, with messy letters scribbled in red marker, signalling the plot hasn't been paid for in a good while. Some stones have newer, crisper engravings below the old ones; family graves. A little bit further down the path, some of the graves they pass have fresh flowers planted in the dirt or placed on top, sometimes along with a candle, or a note, or a little trinket. Gerard likes the trinkets; a piece of jewellery, a plastic soldier, a chess piece, an icon of Jesus. They make the cemetery feel alive, in a way; it's not a place for the dead, it's a place where the living come together to remember, to cry and smile and laugh. And just to hang out, Gerard thinks and looks up at the green foliage above them. It's peaceful here. Much better than a park, where it's impossible to relax without getting a rogue soccerball to the head or getting hollered at by shitty middle schoolers on a field trip for holding hands with your boyfriend in public.

Gerard bumps his shoulder against Frank's again, and gives him a small smile when he looks over with raised eyebrows. Frank seems to get it, he smiles back and says nothing. Further in the back of the cemetery, closer to the fence, Gerard sees someone lying on a picnic blanket on the grass between the stones a little distance away. They're partly shielded from view by a low hedge, and Gerard doesn't pay them much attention. He looks at the stones they pass, some of them are cracked or knocked askew by weather and shifting masses of mud over the years. Some of them look expensive, with elaborate, fancy lettering and little stone doves or gold coated carved roses sitting at the top, he wonders how heavy they are, how hard it would be to shove it back into an upright position. Probably pretty hard.

The hedge on their left ends and Gerard looks towards where the path curves around a corner, and he sees the picnickers again, sprawled out on their checkered blanket. He figures them to be two girls, probably around high school age, judging from the backpack covered in iron-on patches and a pack of cigarettes lying next to them on the grass. Gerard smiles to himself. A chill afternoon, then. It's when the two girls break apart suddenly, becoming aware of his and Frank's crunching steps on the gravel nearby, that Gerard realizes they had totally just been in the middle of an intense make-out session.

For a horror-struck second that seems to go on for an eternity, he makes eye contact with the one with dark hair; she looks back at him with equal amonts of stunned silence, and then Gerard makes a strangled noise, grabs onto Frank's sleeve and pulls him along the path. Quickening his step, he purposefully looks hard at the ground as they round the corner and pass the two girls. Frank makes an amused little sound, and Gerard just pulls on his arm harder.

When they are out of earshot, Gerard lets go of Frank's sleeve, and they slow down to a normal pace again. Albeit still a little awkward and shell shocked, there is easy laughter building in his chest. “That's certainly something to do after class.”

Frank giggles, then sighs.

“Oh man,” he says wistfully, “I did high school all wrong. Shit.”

“What do you mean,” Gerard asks, feeling a bit hot in the face.

“I mean,” Frank twists around to look back towards the hedge. Gerard hisses and slaps him on the arm, but Frank doesn't even react, just turns back with another small giggle. “Those kids back there had it figured _out_. I wish I'd done more shit like that when I was a teenager.” He smiles deprecatingly at himself. “I was too innocent, man.”

Gerard raises his eyebrows at him, amused. “Don't try to tell me you were some kind of saint, Iero. I'm surprised you never burst into flames upon entering the school chapel,” he laughs.

“Hey, I was nice during high school, fuck you.” Frank narrows his eyes at him, but it just makes Gerard laugh harder. He shoves his hands into his pockets and gives Frank a look.

“You put weed in the thurible.”

“ _Once_.” Frank clears his throat, obviously trying not to laugh, but it's not working. _“Once,_ okay,” He's so proud of himself, Gerard can tell. Gerard smiles and shakes his head, looking down at his feet moving on the ground as they walk over a patch of grass, towards the big mausoleum behind the church.

“You think the nuns would've been pleased to see you fooling around with guys on sacred ground?”

Frank pffs. “What's more sacred than dry-humping when you're in high school?”

Gerard keeps laughing, still riding the little adrenaline high he'd gotten from the deer-in-headlights encounter back there. Who exactly was the deer, he isn't sure.

“No, I guess you're right.”

They come up to the mausoleum, standing tall and silent above them in the sunshine. At the top there is a statue of what is probably supposed to be Mary, holding a child in her arms and looking down at it with a gentle, stony expression. Gerard likes her a lot, he likes how peaceful she looks, how peaceful it makes him feel to just stand and watch her. Her frozen, grey eyes never leave the child in her arms, never blink, and for some reason it fills him with calm. Her energy doesn't exude wisdom exactly, more contentment and love, like nothing else matters in that endless moment.

He sighs and looks over at Frank, who's watching her as well, his head tilted back so the sun hits his face. It makes him look like he's glowing, his eyelashes are coloured golden by the light. Gerard reaches over and takes his hand.

Frank squeezes him back and looks over, smiling. Gerard's heart does a little extra jump.

The sound of quick, crunching steps behind them makes Gerard glance over, and he sees the two girls they had passed by earlier walking quickly past them towards the gate, one of them carrying their rolled up blanket under her arm and the other one briskly hoisting her backpack over one shoulder. They very pointedly do not acknowledge either Frank or Gerard's existence, hurrying back towards the gate by the parking lot.

“Aw man, we totally ruined their date,” Frank says, agonized. “We're terrible people.”

Gerard snorts. “Like you're sorry.”

“No, no, I am,” Frank insists, looking after the two teenagers as they hurry out through the gate and across the almost vacant lot. “I totally am. They were on some advanced shit, dude.”

“I'm sure they will forgive you,” Gerard says.

“I don't deserve their forgiveness,” Frank wails dramatically. “I'm going to have to pay my debt to the universe now. What do I have to do to make this right?”

Gerard just laughs and rolls his eyes. “Probably some grand gesture, I'm sure.”

Frank sighs and shakes his head a little, so his hair falls into his face. Considering his sins, no doubt. Then he jerks his head to the side in a “let's go” kind of way, and Gerard nods, letting Frank lead him back onto the footpath and towards the gate.

“I never got caught for the weed thing, you know.”

Frank's smug tone is evident. Gerard looks sideways at him out of the corner of his eye. “Besides, _doing_ it is more important than people knowing that you did, anyway. It's the principle.”

Gerard grins. “Good to hear you still have your morals intact.”

“Damn straight, my mom raised me right.”

“Uh huh,” Gerard grins harder. Then he remembers, “Did you wanna go visit her this weekend?”

They turn the corner of section C and move towards the northern gate.

Frank says, “Yeah, but you don't need to come with if you don't want.”

Gerard shoves his elbow playfully into Frank's arm. “Yeah, right. She's going to go biblical if you don't bring me. She _loves_ me,” he teases. Frank snorts.

“She does.” He laughs quietly for a moment, then adds, “Don't do anything weird to your hair this time, though.”

“I would never,” Gerard fawns.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to hear what you think of this :3  
> I have learned my lesson so i will not promise anything but i may post the second part to this at some point if i can ever get around to finishing it RIP


End file.
